


Dark Woods and Daffodils

by Austere_Ahhhnie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bodice-Ripper, Breeding, Claiming Bites, Controlling Kylo Ren, Dark Fic Fest, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Historical Inaccuracy, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Has No Chill, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Loss of Virginity, Medieval Medicine, Omega Rey, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Violence, med-EVIL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Austere_Ahhhnie/pseuds/Austere_Ahhhnie
Summary: Across the bloodied battlefield, a young Omega on the cusp of womanhood catches the eye of an enemy Alpha on the ascent of his power.





	1. Chapter 1

The aftermath of battle saw Kylo Ren observing his men rounding up the last of the defeated. The King of Alderaan and now, the new King of Takodana, sat atop Silencer, a steed black in color and in disposition. No one but his master could tame his vicious temperament. The irascible animal was tuned to Kylo's moods and humor, and the creature sensed the human's twinges of restlessness. It flicked its tail and raised its head, signalling irritation. The four-legged beast then reared its forelegs in an attempt to garner the master’s attentions. Luckily for said master, who learned to ride at the same time he learned how to walk, he anticipated his animal’s movements, pressing one massive armor clad leg and tightening his hold on the reins to move sideways, making tight, circular motions to calm the animal. When Silencer stood calmly, Kylo absentmindedly praised his horse as a reward for its good behavior, his focus solely on the scene unfolding before him.   

 

His army claimed victory when enemy defenses broke down. In the middle of battle, Kylo saw their cowardly king beat a hasty retreat. Making quick work of the departing enemy with a flick of a wrist and swung his sword true on a sliver of skin left vulnerable between hastily attached armor. Kylo sliced his opponent open with nary a grunt, and the king was dead before two parts of him fell to the ground.       

 

When the vanquished were rounded up and corralled, Kylo tightly nodded his regal head. It was the gesture those of the lesser ranks were waiting for. The loyal soldiers worked themselves into a frenzy to scavenge whatever their grubby hands could seize from the carnage. Those of higher rank were more discerning and discriminating. Kylo’s lips formed a knowing smirk when he found two of his highest-ranking generals, Hux and Dameron, impatiently waiting in the wings for the rewards befitting their station. He allowed Hux to pick upon the leavings of the dead king. The red-haired general dismounted and ordered his own subordinates to remove pieces of the dead king's armor. Another lackey took care of the horse to coral into Hux's stables. Kylo gifted Dameron an omega from the enemy’s army, a woman who was assigned to tend to their wounded. The handsome general showed the king his gratitude by mating and knotting the petite, struggling omega on the spot.      

 

Victory was a woman whose scented bed Kylo was well acquainted, yet this recent conquest held a deeper meaning, a portent of good tidings. His chest rumbled as he purred in satisfaction, surveying the slaughter before him. This battle would be remembered for the ages as the starting point of his legacy. Kylo was on the ascent, cresting the wave of triumph, each campaign greater than the next while seizing lands and riches of the vanquished. With his fearsome reputation preceding him, the mere mention of his army marching in their direction would send the unfortunate target in a panic, opening their castle and flying the flag of surrender.    

 

Part of the reason for his success was Kylo’s generosity towards his army, a proportion of his takings were shared by the lowest footsoldier to his trusted generals. Despite his magnanimity, his careful spending and the clever handling of his beta master of coinage, Mitaka, made him a king wealthy enough to reward several armies. Kylo felt this was the opportunity to set in motion the path destiny has set out for him. He already succeeded in conquest; it was time to build on his success and lay the foundation of his kingdom.

 

Kylo ruminated on his grand scheme, his face masking interest at the horde taking whatever they wanted on the bloodied battlefield. He has trained the army to be focused and vicious in battle, with the implied promise their king would allow them to unleash their baser instincts once victory was secured. This cycle of single-minded brutality followed by the fever of avarice has worked well for a man amassing his wealth and power. Such was the trade-off for a fighting group made up solely of Alphas. Kylo has participated in countless wars and skirmishes enough to realize this formula would eventually run its course. For his vision to come into fruition, his men must be enticed with something more valuable than gold. A portion of this army must be tempted to grow roots, their strength in battle sublimated in the art of farming and husbandry. True, there are betas who do most of the dirty work, but Kylo imagined an alpha would make light work those tasks a beta’s middling strength wasn’t meant to perform. Men to till his vast tracts of land, raise and wrangle his cattle, and harvest from the tallest fruit trees in his orchards. He also required some of his generals retire to their holdings and administer Kylo’s lands, render judgment or punishment of the peasants in his stead, and collect monies and taxes to fill his coffers. Kylo wanted men to expand and defend his possessions, rather than fighting to acquire them, all in his hallowed name.

 

What better way to inspire his men than to provide them with something rare, something unattainable? A warm, sweet-smelling, fertile omega, to breed with and birth their progeny.

 

Alphas were the strongest of all the designations. Fearless and strong in battle, yet for all their strength and fury, Alphas are all males. To reproduce, they needed females; specifically, they needed omega females. Alphas could breed a beta, but those females birth one alpha pup at a time, and the infant’s constitution was severely weakened. Kylo’s own father took betas to bed, who birthed him multiple sons and daughters, a majority of them did not survive infancy. An omega mate ensured the birth of healthy alpha pups who can live past the age of one.  

 

Mother nature has made these beings rare. Females discovered to be Omegas have been kept hidden and protected under lock and key by the alphas of their household. Their rarity has transformed these females into valuable commodity, traded and bartered among alphas. A fleeting memory of his mother, smelling like heaven itself, petite and long of hair, hidden and lonely in a tower where only his father had access, swam through his mind. He shook this bittersweet memory away from his chaotic thoughts.  

 

His castle kept several omegas, though they were unmated by his command. Kylo decided these females served a higher purpose, servicing him and his other unmated generals during ruts. The rest of his men have betas to slake their lusts. His ears have heard of rumors of a group of omegas who banded together and lived in secret under the watchful eyes of sympathetic betas. He hoped those whispers were true; Kylo needed a good number of these sweet, fecund creatures to reward his alphas, generals and soldiers alike, for their good and faithful service. 

 

The tall, dark-haired king remembered clearly how his secret ambitions became a possibility.

 

_Kylo was alone in the great chamber, staring morosely down his castle’s courtyard. The autumn leaves carpeted the stone floors with the riotous colours of the dying sun. He was pondering whether his plans could be executed at all when he heard his guard’s unintelligible shouts. The enormous gates were opened to allow a lone man through his keep. Kylo knew this man well. He was a beta merchant, and from his vantage Kylo noticed the trader has two donkeys carrying his wares; he usually arrived with a single beast of burden. The new donkey bore two large burlap bags, a rope slung over the animal’s back tying both sacks securely together. Kylo’s curiosity was piqued at the possibility of new objects for him to acquire._

 

_He summoned the merchant in his throne room attached to the great chamber. The poor trader shook like a leaf in the middle of a gale, clutching his leather gloves with clammy hands. The briny scent of the beta's fear assaulted the noses of all and sundry. Kylo sat on his opulent chair, his eyes on level with the beta, who was more intimidated by leaps and bounds by the strong scent and presence of the Alpha king. So distressed was the beta he failed to catch the king’s clearly worded questions. His inattention was rewarded by a hard smack on the head by General Hux. Sufficiently chastened, the peddler concentrated on hearing the question when asked a second time. The query made the merchant more baffled than petrified._

 

_“Majesty, the bags carry dried plants the kingdom of Takodana has requested,” the trader replied. The king didn't deign to reply, a simple raising of the brow was enough for the trader to continue._

 

_“Takodana suffered an infestation of their crops,” the man explained. “Their healers found a cure just in time but not before the pest decimated their chamomile plants.”_

 

_“Chamomile?” Kylo murmured._

 

_“Aye, Majesty,” the other man confirmed. He was about to get another smack from Hux for bungling how to address a king properly but Kylo raised his right hand, a signal for the general to let the unintended disrespect slip._

 

_“Those dried plants, they're for… tea, isn't it?” Kylo mused. The lone beta in the room nodded. “How many bags of tea will your sacks produce?”_

 

_The trader performed a swift mental calculation. “They’re actually dried flowers, my king, and those two burlaps would produce quite a number,” the trader answered, providing an honest estimate, the number of which surprised Kylo. ”I heard these are for the kingdom's consumption for the season and not for trade.”_

 

_The king wished he wore his armor, or his helmet at the very least. His features were masculine and handsome, yet expressive and easily gave his emotions away. Kylo took deep breaths to calm the thrum of excitement beating his chest. “Hux,” he ordered his general, his baritone huskier than usual, ”have this man's cattle be watered and fed. Let his wares be kept in our supply room for safekeeping. Show him one of our guest rooms for him to rest for the night. Food and drink will be sent to his room. Women, too, should he request.”_

 

_Had the king asked what the beta preferred, the man would've elected to leave and go about his business. He may be feted like a king’s favored guest tonight. Nonetheless, his business minded heart feared what the king would demand in exchange. In the end, the man had no choice but to accept; no one refuses a king, especially if he offers his hospitality._

 

_The General nodded, giving his king a baffled look at his unexpected generosity to a stranger of lower rank. “It will be done, Your Majesty.”_

 

_“Rest for now,” Kylo bided the other man. ”I will summon you again at sunrise to discuss.” He waited for Hux to escort his guest to his temporary abode before standing up and accessing a secret antechamber._

 

_He called Mitaka to his own private chambers, ordering him to produce maps and scrolls of Takodana. He also requested medical scrolls, specifically about Omegas. “No one needs to know for now,” Kylo reminded Mitaka._

 

_“O.. Of course, Your Majesty,” the other promised with a shaken breath._

 

_The night was spent burning precious oil, lighting Kylo's eyesight as he pored over the scrolls. He drafted battle plans and listed possible weaknesses and consequences, and read the medical text with avid interest. He kept his hunches close to his chest, tamping the flicker of hope when the texts would prove his suspicions wrong. The parchments before him confirmed what he guessed all along. Chamomile wasn't a beverage for recreational purposes. It was a vital ingredient for a tea Omegas drink to suppress their heats._

 

_A wide grin lightened his tired, sleep-deprived face. He knew where his next conquest will be._

 

Kylo's reverie was interrupted when obscenities from his faithful general Dameron came hot and quick, tearing the eerie camaraderie of the men occupied with rummaging for valuables. Those who were blessed with a front seat view cheered Dameron on as he bred the hapless omega, locked in a battle of Dameron’s own making, one where the Alpha was determined to win.  

 

Finding the newly mated pair in the traditional mating position, the Omega’s hamstrings and generous rump softening the impact of the Alpha’s brutal thrusts, stirred Kylo's own arousal. His cock remained half hard from the moment his obsidian eyes caught the lithe figure of another enemy Omega weaving gracefully among the slaughter to aid the injured. The late winter wind changed direction and offered Kylo a trail of her scent. Kylo swung his sword when someone blocked his vision, uncaring whether it be an enemy or one of his men. 

 

For the first time since he learned to wield a sword, Kylo ached to lay down his weapon and charge towards the unsuspecting woman, scoop her by the waist and ride to the nearest inn. It took all of Kylo's willpower and self discipline not to act on his sexual drive, swallowing the ball of spit his mouth produced, a physical manifestation of an Alpha's instincts when an Omega to his liking was nearby. 

 

He wasn't a particularly religious man, yet he sent an unspoken plea to any higher being willing to lend their ears. Kylo begged the fickle gods to end this conflict with his banner flying proud and victorious, and another prayer to spare the Omega's life. 

 

The gods smiled upon him, and they were generous with their grace. Kylo won the battle and now, the delicious Omega was wiggling her firm ass through the dead bodies, a useless endeavour to hide and escape. Kylo throttled his instincts to seize her mid flight; there are too many alphas and too little females to serve their libidinous desires. Kylo knew a small amount of patience would ease his way down the road of his ultimate goal. 

 

He saw the direction the woman was heading, a dark clump of pines at the edge of the landscape. He’d already locked down her scent, and Kylo will be able to spot her even with eyes blindfolded. Kylo allowed her to seek the cover of darkness, granting her time to savor her last moments of solitude before he seized her as his own. 

 

***

She was the last of the enemy left unshackled. 

 

A large swathe of her comrades surrendered, knees bowed, their weapons and spirits broken. Others, preferring death before dishonour, spilled their entrails by the violence of their own hand. Soon, their guts and excrement joined those who were felled in the middle of battle. 

 

The victors revelled in their hard-earned glory. What once were fierce, disciplined warriors in the heat of the fray transformed into a frenzy of greed, like vultures picking carrion. Valuable jewels, armour, weapons, or pouches of minted coin to barter or ransom, were seized by their rapacious maws. Those proven to be difficult to filch met the edge of a sword. Corpses were hacked beyond recognition, heads were cleaved to remove necklaces, limbs lopped off to wrangle bracelets, bejeweled fingers chopped from cold, dead hands. The remains of the great and the good were desecrated and discarded, all in the name of gold. 

 

The lone female took advantage of the chaos in the aftermath of battle. With her heart lodged in her throat, she crawled away from the carnage. Leather armbands protected her skin from rough surfaces as she dragged her body close to the ground. The band wrapped under her clothing protected her tender breasts. She ignored the minor irritation of pebbles digging through fabric into the soft and unprotected underside of her belly. Her progress was slow and uncomfortable, yet she didn't dare call attention to herself by walking upright among the fallen. Horror marked her face as her gaze drifted over the tableau of violence spread across on what was a tranquil patch of green. Bodies of ally or foe heaped upon another, flies hovering the carcasses in anticipation of a veritable feast. She winced as the buzz of insects chimed in with the thwack of blades cutting through flesh and bone, a dark choir accompanying her feeble attempts at freedom. When the scent of an enemy Alpha came near, she froze, mimicking the dead while muttering a prayer to the goddess on her lips for protection. Breaths were held lest a pair of keen ears detected the whoosh of her exhalation. 

 

When the Alpha's attentions were diverted, she continued her procession. She may be used to the sights and smells emanated by the human body, but her nose was unused to the scale of which the metallic tang of blood and the scent of flesh in the early stages of decomposition, hung heavily in the cooling air. She halted her advance as she came across the pale face of one of her allies. Knowing those bright blue eyes anywhere, she covered her mouth with a tremulous fist, stifling her wails of distress. Those unblinking aquamarine orbs belonged to Phasma, a beautiful, proud and fierce warrior. Phasma’s feminine jaw was set rigid, etched forever in resigned determination. Her hands rested slack over the hilt of a knife, its blade nestled within the confines of Phasma’s exposed stomach. The female's healing skills were now useless on Phasma; instead, she spent precious seconds offering a hastily worded prayer for her friend's eternal soul. 

 

Several moments were then spent debating whether to dislodge Phasma's knife for her own protection. A keening cry snapped the female out of her indecision. Panicked cries for help rent the cold late winter afternoon; when help was nowhere coming, calls for mercy followed, quickly devolving into wails of objections and refusal. Her skin crawled as broken sobs of pain coming from the same poor captive echoed together with the salacious grunts of an Alpha in full rut. The Alpha’s lewd, animalistic, rumbles were bellowed faster and faster, his armour groaning to the rhythm of his violent thrusts.  

 

There was simply no time to pry the knife hilted from Phasma’s cooling corpse. The hidden figure didn’t need to raise her head and spy with her own eyes to discover what was happening between the victor and the defeated. She needed to move in order to escape, or be caught and trapped the same way under another Alpha eager to use her body and slake with merciless intent any residual bloodlust from the carnage of the day.  

 

She opened her pouch with minimal, stealthy movements, plucking a clean gauze laced with herbs. The clean scrap of fabric was intended to speed up the healing process. A desperate measure to cover her nose, the cloth blocking the unpleasantness of her surroundings and speed up her escape. Healers were taught to use their items judiciously. With her kith and kin either dead or captured, the woman supposed using her materials for other than its intended purpose was a forgivable excuse.  

 

The female peered at the setting late winter sun. Spring was weeks away; the day could quickly change from the burnt orange of the late afternoon to the inky cover of nighttime at a flick of an eye. She planned to wait among the corpses for the safety of night before dashing off to freedom. The sounds of the Alpha victors, however, rounded closer and closer to her spot. She feared waiting among the dead limited her options. Soldiers would find her eventually, a living, breathing omega to knot and mate, the cold hard dirt be damned. At the edge of the battlefield a band of dark beckoned, seemingly a lifeline, a chance for salvation. It was a copse of pines, its thick, rough foliage preventing the rays of the sun from hitting the ground. She could hide out there and wait until the ravening Alphas have had their fill and take their leave.

 

She scrabbled towards the thick trees, mindful of any strange noises or scents of a nearby enemy. 

 

Had she been battle hardened, she would've known masking her omega scent was paramount in her path to freedom. Despite her romp on the ground brimming with the remnants of indiscriminate bloodshed, a sharp-nosed Alpha sniffling around would trace her underlying sweet perfume. Clothing from a bloodied corpse would've been a more effective camouflage. 

 

In her haste to seek the cover of darkness, she missed a pair of dark eyes following her movements. Had she known she was marked for something her body and mind was unwilling to give, she would've gladly wrestled the knife from Phasma’s corpse and plunged it in her own soft flesh.

 

 

 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time, I hope the interactions make up for it. 
> 
> This was the scene where my idea for this fic started: a darker version of their first meeting in Takodana. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kind words and support.

The woman’s progress was a maddening snail's pace, a procession to the shrine of safety. The rough, freezing ground was an unyielding, unforgiving surface to a human's smooth, hairless skin.  Winter clothing was heavy and cumbersome, and the female wore an outfit that was light and flexible with minimal protection. In the thick of battle, she needed to be quick and nimble on her feet. Her decision to sacrifice comfort for speed left a bitter taste of regret; her teeth were chattering by the time she ascended the slope marking the edge of the forest. Thankfully, she was correct in her earlier estimation; the late winter night appeared quickly over the horizon. It was the opportunity she was waiting for, scrambling into the thickset foliage to hide out the rest of the night.

 

As she hurried over the cover of the foliage, the shouts of the mounted Alphas echoed across the plains, barking at the last of the stragglers and ordered the return to camp.  The raucous units followed their masters without protest, eager to partake in the basic needs of humanity: food and rest, in that order, consumed within the warmth of their keep or a roaring campfire.  They lumbered away from the field, their footfalls heavy with the weight of their stolen treasure. As the sound of marches became fainter, the bodies of the vanquished were left to the harshness of the waning winter night.  

 

The whistle of the icy wind held no sway within the forest, the canopy of trees was a dark, sensuous curtain, separating her from the noise and weariness of the outside world.  The female allowed herself to release the pocket of breath she was holding, bearing a measure of relief. Her panicked heartbeats slowed to a normal tempo as she rose from the freezing dirt.  Wincing as needling pain radiated through her numb torso, she twisted from side to side; bringing blood flowing back to freezing limbs and unraveling the tightness of muscle from her journey across the battlefield.  

 

Her safety secured for the night, the female pondered her own access to food and warmth.  The pouch tied on her waist contained supplies for healing. She carried no other provisions, no flint to start a fire, or a knife to cut branches and erect a makeshift shelter.  The female squinted her eyes, acquainting her sight to the blackness of her surroundings. She noticed the area was untouched, no trace of man or beast could be found in the thicket of pines.  Resigned she would have to resource other means of sustenance and insulation, the woman stood up and rubbed the dirt off her clothing. She was half out of mind to creep back to the field and find supplies when a low-pitched sound rumbled in the darkness.

 

“Don’t wander too far, little Omega,” a voice called out.

 

The Omega froze on the spot, cold dread bracing her spine like a rod of iron.  There was no need to sniff who followed her - only Alphas call her kind ‘little Omegas’ _._ She shrieked a harsh, piercing cry, distressed her careful plotting was all for naught. The woman crept backwards on shaky, unwilling legs, surprised her limbs were slow to follow her own commands.  As a youngling who hasn't suffered the horrors of heat, an Alpha's ability to command her kind with the power of their voice hasn't influenced her own actions.

 

“Did I not make my wishes clear, little one? This forest is leagues deep; no man has ever traversed the opposite end.” The gloom of night masked his features; he could be lying to keep her in place, but she was a stranger to this terrain and couldn’t ensure her way through the ink-stained forest.  The outline of his hulking shape, all sharp and jutting lines, were all her terrified eyes could see. His head was capped with sweeping, curling hair, the soft waves a sharp contrast to the rest of the Alpha's body.

 

“Your _wishes_ don't hold sway over me,” she spat against the Alpha’s menacing form, lacing as much venom in her tone as she could muster with false bravado.

 

The male halted his tender stalking, savoring the quality of her voice for the first time. Hers wasn’t the high-pitched, grating sound of an immature adolescent.  His omega’s voice was fully grown, clear and melodious, with a low undertone sending shivers of delight along his spine. _His Omega_. Acknowledging their connection sent the Alpha's cock to pulse between his breeches.  He growled in discomfort as the armor meant to protect his vulnerable flesh was now a tight, painful vise.

 

“Ahh, my little Omega resists?”  The Alpha mocked her show of spirit.  He didn't share her reticence with sniffling, breathing deeply and drawing the full essence of her scent. Nestled under the sweat and dirt was an assortment of aromas: the malodorous scent of her fear mixed with the clean, cool lavender of the innocent.  Another layer in her posy of fragrance intrigued him. It was the healing, refreshing aroma of orange blossom blended with the heavy, woodsy fragrance of sandalwood. This faint trail called out to him, as if she a sweet bud within the revolting aroma of battle, begging for the spring sun to shine his rays and save her from the savagery of war.

 

“So young and unawakened, a hissing little kitten showing her puny claws,” he observed. “But kittens grow up to be cats, my youngling. Soon, your hisses will turn into mewls and your claws will score my back when we mate in your heat,” he promised, purring his prophetic words with a slowness and rough sensuality of a well-fed feline.  

 

“Your presumptions are immoderate and imprudent for a lowly soldier!” The Omega gasped in indignation.  She wondered if this man, this Alpha, disobeyed a direct order from his superiors to stake his claim.

 

“A lowly soldier? Is that what you think of me?” The man asked incredulously, lumbering closer, ever so slowly so as not to spook the female before him. “It matters not, my sweet. I am your Alpha now.”

 

“Don't come near,” the female threatened shakily, “or my liege’s men will come for you!”  The Omega caught his overpowering musk, her nose breathing nothing but the scent of his desire.

 

The Alpha laughed, a peal of sound coming from someone unused to engaging in bouts of merriment.  “It's just us now, little sweeting. It's what the gods have ordained. No one else will come between us, until death strikes and take us to the afterlife. Which I hope will be many, many years away.”

 

Panic and distress robbed the female of speech.  She shook her head to deny the conviction of his words, refusing to hear the naked ache and want in his deep voice.

 

“Let them come and try to part us, my Omega,” the towering Alpha continued.  ”And I shall lay all their heads at your feet as my mating gift.”

 

“I want nothing from you!” The Omega cried, sobbing and shuddering at the male's violent offerings. She has had enough of brutality to last her a lifetime.  If she was being truthful, the woman held no affinity nor tenderness for the Alphas of her kingdom. From the furtive glances she received this past winter, she knew they were merely biding their time.  Disgust pooled in her belly at their avaricious glances, hearing their double-speak about her approaching season. She could generously feel a shred of gratitude for their patience, hearing of other kingdoms who weren’t as patient or merciful.  

  

His words of confidence and surety confused her, solidifying her bias the enemy was an unknown currency she cannot rely upon.  She changed her earlier impression of this man, for his words and posture aren’t of a uncouth, lowly foot soldier. He talked and strutted with all the arrogance of one of higher rank.   _But surely, he cannot be the enemy King_ , she thought.   _They don’t stay to scavenge for loot_.  A memory of the dark-armored King bestride his equally dark colored horse hacking at his enemies sent another wave of fear crashing over her slender frame.  

 

“Let me go; let us part ways now and return to our kingdoms, never to lay eyes on each other in our lifetime.  You have my word I will never tell a soul,” the woman offered.

 

“Your army has lost, and Takodana is now… ours,” the Alpha reminded the female.  “We might have met in unusual circumstances, but there's nothing to be ashamed of in our bond. Tell me your name.”

 

 _Tell Alpha your name,_ a voice the female hasn’t heard before rang clear.  Those words rattled inside her mind, applying a mounting pressure, _a compulsion_ , to open her mouth and heed his command. She swung her face from side to side, clearing and chasing away the fog of compliance.

 

“Get out of my head,”  she gritted. “I won’t give you anything!”  

 

“We shall see.  Heed my words, little Omega, time and the changing seasons are your enemy.  I can sense your transition, and soon I can take whatever I want,” the male taunted.  He edged forward with short, unobtrusive movements, hands clenched on his sides. Frustration wrapped his mind as he grasped the chill air instead of this warm, sweet smelling Omega. Impatience warred with his infamous cunning.  She wasn't entirely in his sway and it was not his preference to chase her deep into the unknown reaches of the forest.

 

The inevitable peered its beady eyes, urging the Omega to give up and surrender herself to his power. She felt a spark inside her, lighting the fire of resistance.  She squared her slender shoulders _; she mustn't give up_ , she thought, coaxing her tired, hungry and weary self to try one last gamble, one final play on the wheel of fortune.  She had limited recourse but she could at the very least, bide for time.

 

“M - my liege will pay you a good ransom for my safe return,” the Omega bargained, seeking to delay her fate with her captor.  The Omega breathed deeply, tufts of mist escaping her lips; her fright had unnaturally wrapped her body against the worsening cold.   

 

“Your _liege_ lies in pieces on the godsforsaken field,” the Alpha countered. “I am a wealthy man in my own right.  And you and our pups will be the jewels which will crown all my riches.”

 

Hearing the gall of the Alpha to expect her to accept her sorry fate fanned the flames of anger.  White hot rage blinded her, and caution flew out of her mind, like the soft, white dandelions floating above the summer meadows.  

 

“Take me to _your king_ then, and let him deal my fate,”  she jeered, chin held proudly, her words targeted as an intentional insult.  He might be an Alpha, but he still called to a higher power.

 

He raised his hand and the female shrank in fear, expecting her cheeks to feel the sting of pain from those massive paws.  The Alpha made no further action, his palms opened upwards in invitation. “You must be cold to the bone. Join me,” he beckoned.  “Let us ride to camp. The King is known for his impatience and will not take kindly those who dawdle on their feet.”

 

The Omega was perturbed, disappointed the Alpha didn’t take to her bait.  “Do I have your word I would not be...violated?”

 

Her soft query was met with an impatient snort. “I would prefer our first mating to be conducted in the warmth and comfort of a room. But should my little Omega prefer the cold, hard ground…”

 

Reminded of her futile escape, coupled with her hunger and the warring emotions she had experienced after a long day sent her to the brink.  She lashed out against the Alpha with the vengeance of a bitter, unblessed spirit. “I am not yours! I am my own person, and I would rather lie with the corpses than suffer your revolting lusts -”

 

The Omega was overcome with anger her guard slipped with the briefest of moments. It was all the Alpha needed and with a swiftness that belied his size, he wrapped a massive, armored hand around her slender neck, slamming her spare frame along one of the hard trunks.   

 

“I have been the most patient Alpha, and you return my indulgence with petulance,”  the male thundered, shaking the hand that was bracing the Omega into submission. “It is a futile exercise to deny what nature has intended for you.  Save your passions for more pleasurable pursuits.”

 

Her fingers scrabbled against the inflexible hand, seeking purchase from his punishing grip.  When he refused to relent his hold, the woman reached out, raking her nails over the metal covering his arm.  “You’re a monster,” she gasped, lungs barely taking in air.

 

“Yes I am,”  the man concurred.  “And I am most displeased.  You can tame the beast by giving him your name, hmm?”  The Alpha cajoled. The Omega refused, her defiance costing her valuable air as the Alpha tightened his hold.  “Tell. Me. Your. Name.”

 

 _Please your Alpha_ , her inner voice brokered no argument.  “Rey,” she croaked, “my name is Rey.”

 

“Rey,” the Alpha echoed, breathing her name like a benediction, and the stink of his lust assaulted her senses. “A beautiful name befitting my mate.  Do you want to know mine, little mate?” A pregnant pause settled before the powerful Alpha continued. “I am King Kylo Ren, ruler of Alderaan and of Takodana, and you, my Rey, are my intended mate.”

 

 _“No,”_ Rey groaned, defeat sapping her proud spirit.  There will be no escape for her, only confinement. Locked in a tower, a lifetime of unbearable heats and beating death’s door to bear pups.  Freedom would be a pleasant memory she would seek while her Alpha, _Kylo_ , slaked his hunger between her thighs.  Dark spots appeared behind her eyes and her surroundings seemed to spin around her.  She used her last breaths to pray for salvation. The gods were useless to cease what the fates have prepared for her, but granted Rey a morsel of kindness when she lost all sense and fainted dangling in Kylo Ren’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Your presumptions are immoderate and imprudent for a lowly soldier!” The Omega gasped in indignation. She wondered if this man, this Alpha, disobeyed a direct order from his superiors to stake his claim._
> 
> _“A lowly soldier? Is that what you think of me?” ___
> 
> __It's my interpretation of the infamous dialogue between Han and Leia, about scruffy looking nerf herders! Rey accuses him of being a skeevy soldier and all Kylo says is "You think I'm a lowly soldier?"_ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who left comments, sent kudos and bookmarked this fic. 
> 
> Last chapter was inspired from their first meeting at Takodana. This is a re-imagining of the infamous Interrogation Scene. 
> 
> My apologies this chapter took more time to update. While reading smut is a pleasure one can enjoy with ease, writing smut is a different kettle of fish.

 

In the confines of his bedchamber, Kylo covetously beheld the living, breathing embodiment of his good fortune.  He stood at the corner of the chamber while hand-picked attendants stripped away the girl's rumpled clothes post-haste. The King's eyes trained upon the unconscious Omega atop his bed. His _Rey_. Kylo rasped in surprise,  delight gladdened his heart, upon discovering the glory of her naked body. Her sweet aroma beckoning him in the darkened forest complemented perfectly with her physical form.  Rey's skin, devoid of scars or pockmarks, glistened like a pearl, smooth and iridescent. The healthy sheen of her complexion was a beacon of her good health, free of the plagues and illnesses afflicting the young and elderly.  

 

He recalled the first time he saw her on the battlefield. Rey was swift-limbed and hauntingly graceful, dispensing succor to ally and foe alike. His initial impression of Rey was of a young boy, scrawny of chest and of build, before being presented with a full view of plump, generous buttocks.  Kylo's heart thundered within the cage of his chest, blood coursing thick and heavy in his veins. His Alpha instincts kicked in, following with avid eyes the pleasing symmetry of a nipped waist swelling into the sensual curve of hips that can only be owned by an Omega female.

 

Kylo's cock stirred with interest as he imagined spanning her waist with his hands, or grasping the curve of those hips during bouts of mating.  His mind left the violence of carnage for a fleeting moment. Sinful notions entered his mind, how those fine buttocks receiving the slapping hardness of his thighs as he worked the bulb of his knot inside her warm, tight cunt.  When one of his men was unhorsed by the enemy, Kylo berated himself for his brief period of distraction. He'd bedded Omegas before,, yet the sight of this female's generous curves affected Kylo in a deeper, more primal level. The powerful King was taken aback, his renowned restraint and self-discipline slipping over a piece of ass.  A lissome piece of ass, he freely admitted at the time. Kylo knew he had to win this war to claim her as spoils of war.

 

One of the attendants, an older, no-nonsense beta, offered Rey’s attire to her liege. The King's gaze remained captivated by his slumbering prize, providing the barest regard to the beta's silent question. He condemned the heap of clothing to a raging fire, reducing the offending garments into ash. Burning her attire was a symbolic severance of Rey's connection to her old life to make way for the new.

 

The servants rubbed damp, scented pieces of linen all over the female, their hands swiftly and gently wiping away the grime and dirt hiding her sweetness.  When the scent of lavender reached their noses, the servants paused to take a closer look at the female, passing looks of worry and trepidation. The Omega their King chose as his mate appeared heartrendingly _young_.  Her face, so soft and wholesome, was dotted with winsome freckles along the bridge of her pert nose. Her features were peaceful and serene, retaining the final vestiges of childhood plumpness.  

 

Terror rounded the servant's eyes into trenchers when they found angry welts encircling the unconscious girl's neck.  Aware of their master’s overwhelming presence, they averted their eyes and continued washing the unfortunate soul in silent circumspection.  A serving woman left the rest of the cleaning to her companions to shake the creases from a pale linen shift. She was about to cover the Omega's slender nakedness when the King grumbled impatiently.

 

“Don't,” Kylo commanded bitingly. “Complete her ablutions and take your leave.”

 

The elderly servant approached her King, clasped hands raised in obeisance. She took it upon herself to remind her liege of his mate’s welfare, hoping her advanced age would make him  understand her reasoning. “Your majesty, winter has not left and tonight is particularly cold, the Omega -”

 

“ _Leave_!”

 

The helpers curtseyed on quaking knees and scuttled out of the chamber, a clump of vermin hiding from the jaws of a mousecat.

 

Kylo savored the quiet and solitude as he approached his bed at a leisurely pace, his eyes taking their fill of Rey's supine form.  The high points of her small breasts, rising and falling prettily with each gentle breath, were tipped with blush colored nipples. The cool air of his private quarters hardened the rose colored flesh into mouth-watering buds. Seeing how the smooth, velvety nipples puckered before his avid stare sent a flash of naked want down his hardening cock.  He palmed his length, a small and fleeting gesture to ease the ache in his loins. Lust spiked the aroma of his Alpha scent, mingling with the smell of burning wood cackling on the generous fireplace.

 

The urge to mate and breed an Omega was inherent to every Alpha since written memory. Their persistent appetites handed through the ages, mayhap from a prehistoric ancestor, a creature whose humanity straddled the feral and the rational.  His hungry stare trailed lower to the bound of curls nestled between her shapely hips. Kylo's breath was stolen from his lungs, knocked over, his come nearly spilling as was his habit as a callow youth, imagining how those hips would slowly expand with the passage of seasons, cradling his pups growing inside her womb.

 

He disrobed quietly, yearning to feel her skin close to his.  Calloused palms snaked over her slim flanks and prised her legs open. Groaning deeply at the hint of Rey’s lower lips peeking through the curls, he swiped his tongue over parched lips eager to devour her honeyed slick directly from the source.  Her scent was irresistible but remained faint, hidden by her innocence and youth. Kylo ground his jaw in vexation; the Alpha knew he shouldn't act upon his base desires before Rey was in full bloom. The Gods, however, were mercurial in their attitudes, seemingly determined to test his resolve. The heavenly beings didn’t bestow Rey with their own ethereal, otherworldly appeal.  Instead, they endowed his Omega with a raw, natural beauty he had no power to resist. Kylo’s heart was ensnared the moment he laid eyes on her.

 

His body was wracked with unanswered need, the blunt edge of his throbbing cock weeping a clear, shiny fluid.  A soft whine escaped from his lips, the sound of a man desperate to ease the coiling tension threatening to unravel his good intentions.  Before his urges get the better of him, Kylo permitted himself to savor a few moments of debauched indulgence.

 

The digits of his sword hand gathered his secretions, rubbing it up and down his throbbing shaft. His other hand grasped the crook under her knee, bending her leg and cleaving her limbs at an obscene angle. The Alpha's eyes shone with unholy light; Rey's unusual posture unfurled her nether lips, revealing the bundle of flesh that hooded the entrance of her cunt.  Kylo’s large hand encircled his distended member, jerking and tugging his flesh without rhythm or finesse. Pleasuring himself at the sight of his Omega spread-eagled on his bed, laid out as though she was eager and ready to receive him. A bead of moisture appeared at the top of his cock. He caught it with his forefinger and dabbed it over Rey's puffy folds, marking her with the essence of his body. The thick walls  echoed his profane words and the lurid thwack of his exertions. Though his rough, prurient ministrations released the worst of his depraved frustrations, the relief he found was hollow and fleeting.  He was keenly aware this was a pale imitation of what he would experience spilling his seed within Rey.

 

A soft moan ground Kylo's libidinous deeds to a halt. The Omega stretched her limbs and her fist covered her mouth gaping to form a yawn.  Rey was beginning to awaken from her stupor. Knowing she wouldn't take his advances well, Kylo crept upwards and settled between her legs, the hot poker of his cock pressed against the tender swell of her belly.  He hovered over his intended mate, hunching on his elbows. The weight of his abdomen pinned her securely on the mattress, restricting her chances to bolt and escape. He wasn't bothered should Rey decide to raise her voice to ask for help.  Those who live in his keep were well aware the foolishness of interrupting their King who has recently found his fated Omega. Kylo was more worried about Rey’s physical reactions. Despite her ordeal, fear made even the most docile animal to strike without care or caution.  The bruising on her neck was a stark reminder of what could happen should Rey's uncontrollable emotions get the better of her.

 

Her long, sooty lashes fluttered and flew open, showing eyes that were dreamy and unfocused. Rey's face was relaxed, her mind in limbo, between befuddlement and consciousness. Firelight accented the ring of gold around her deep brown orbs.  Kylo sent a hushed prayer of gratitude to the Gods for giving him an Omega whose pretty face would be the first thing he would see every morning.

 

“Where… am…I?” She asked slowly. Rey swallowed painfully after every spoken word, a grating agony lancing her svelte throat.

 

“Shhh,” he whispered, rubbing his nose against hers in comfort.  “Don't be afraid. You are home.”

 

The depth of his tone drove the last wisps of sleep fogging her memory. It was the same voice, deep and encompassing, of the Alpha King who accosted her in the darkened forest. Taunting the failure of her escape, sweeping away her objections and pleas of mercy with a wave of his armored hand. Rey thrashed her weakened limbs in a feeble attempt to be rid of his hated presence.  The Alpha quickly dispelled her movements, one arm pinning the pair of hers, and the other grabbing the still tender muscles of her neck.

 

With her mind fully awake, Rey realized both of them were splayed naked on the bed. Bewilderment, hurt and disgust clouded her pretty face, for surely their unclothed bodies were undeniable proof that the Alpha, _Kylo_ , had fulfilled his corrupt promises and taken her while she slept..  Tears of distress welled and fell from her eyes. Dread and shame pooled low in her belly, the hot column of his erection insistent where it prodded her soft flesh.

 

“How dare you,” Rey hissed, righteous anger quivering her words of accusation.

 

Kylo raised his hand from her neck to her face, rubbing the tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. Her skin was soft and smooth, finely grained and silky to the touch.

 

“Sheath your claws, my beautiful Omega,” Kylo murmured. “You remain as you were when we met at the forest.”

 

That morsel of information did little to ease her agitation. “Please, m-my lord -”

 

“Kylo, my pretty Rey. You have every right as my intended mate to call your King by his name.”

 

She shook her head, her teary gaze looking at the simple yet opulent furnishings with dispassionate eyes. Rey looked everywhere, anywhere other than the pale features of the Alpha pressing his massive body against hers. Praying to the Gods for deliverance and cursing them for her predicament in the same breath. Other than that brief period when her emerging womanhood caught the interests of a few Alphas in Takodana, Rey was mostly left to her own business.

 

She was a ward of Maz, the village healer and the woman who fostered Rey when she was orphaned. Her life with Maz was sheltered, and she was content to learn everything there was to know and take over the duties of the old healer. Rey had hoped such a life would spare her the fate most of her kind were dealt. Perhaps the circumstances of her lowly birth would sway the King to seek others more suitable to his stature.

 

“I am not… high born,” she rasped, swallowing painfully to ease the sting in her throat. “I am a nobody -”

 

“It matters not to me,” Kylo countered, his dark eyes roaming possessively over her delicate countenance. “Forget your past.  Allow it to perish and rot together with the defeated,” he urged. “Let your mind and spirit be happy and content for the honor I have accorded you.”

 

“ _Let me go_ ,” Rey pleaded, her voice rough and frantic. “There are others, more… beautiful and… pleasing. I am not ready - ”

 

“Before I found you, my most precious possession was my steed, Silencer,” Kylo confessed. “He was a sire of my father's own Falcon.” The drone of his deep voice began to take its hold on Rey, the reverberation of his baritone stroking her restless mind.  “Many a ruler have tried to purchase him from me; I have always refused. One even had the gall to bribe my soldier to try and steal him within my castle,” he snorted in recollected derision. ”Silencer took care of him before I could draw my own weapon. Stomped the thief’s head and spilled his brains on the stable floor,” Kylo noted in satisfaction.

 

Rey kept her silence. Part of her sought to rest her aching throat. The other half was this unexplained yearning to hear the soothing timbre of Kylo Ren spinning a tale about his treasured horse.

 

“One crafty Alpha presented a proposition: he would be willing pay me gold should I agree one of his mares be mated to Silencer. Any foal that resulted from her breeding will be owned by him.  I agreed and received the mare last spring, and she was beautiful, just like you,” Kylo crooned, his compliments a whispered reminder of his wicked lust.

 

“A stable hand noticed the mare was smaller than the kind we allow Silencer to breed.  Turned out she was a mere filly, a _petite pouliche_ , no more than three, perhaps four, years old.  She was in heat, but not fully grown into maturity. She wasn't ready to receive a stallion’s seed and carry his foal.  I sent the filly back and demanded her owner to send the correct animal, but not before Silencer scented her.” Kylo laughed in remembrance, the sound of mirth rumbling around his barrelled chest. “My horse went thoroughly mad, rearing his legs and demanding access, wild with the need to breed her, uncaring of her young age,” he recounted.  “Damn stallion crashed the fences to get to her stall and almost killed the stable-hand.”

 

The memory of how his stallion behaved with the young filly and the irony of the similarity of his predicament wasn’t lost on the Alpha King.

 

“I know you haven’t experienced your first heat, but now I have you in my arms, so warm and sweet, I understand and share my stallion’s impatience, _ma petite pouliche_ ,” he murmured.  He swooped down with every intention of kissing her lips; Rey obstinately turned the other way.  The swift, raging anger that arose from Rey’s denial of his caresses was tampered down when Kylo saw her bruised neck.  Taking deep, calming breaths, he reined in his grim emotions. “You may deny what we have for now. As soon as spring arrives your own body will betray you.”   

 

“I pray your lands to suffer an endless winter, for snow to turn the tender shoots on the ground into ice!” Rey cursed, her words coming out  scathing and scouring.

 

Kylo bellowed, happiness and admiration for his Omega's unquenchable spirit lightening his somber appearance.  “The Gods are fickle but wise, _pouliche_. A barren wasteland means no harvest to offer in worship. By tomorrow the sun will rise again,” he vowed. “Remaining in the sky longer and brighter in the coming days to warm your soft skin.”

 

Her innate good-natured demeanor was buried under layers of suppressed anger and impotent rage. “I pray to the Gods no green will ever grow in your lands, and you will have no recourse but to sacrifice your precious horse - “

 

“If the Gods are as smart as I believe them to be, they will ensure the green will return. Until then,” Kylo paused, his head descending to steal a kiss from her rosebud lips. “I will tend to you, pouliche. I will wait for nature to weave its potent magic. For the fruit that ripens on the vine tastes the sweetest. When you're ready to be plucked, and your juices run copiously down your pretty thighs, I will be there, devouring every last drop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Pouliche _is French for "filly." I am not a farmer or well versed in animal husbandry, but good old Wikipedia defines a filly as one "that is too young to be called a mare."__

**Author's Note:**

> There was no specific reason I chose chamomile as a suppressant. It sounded nice and relaxing XD.


End file.
